


You Always Want More

by DrowningHETA



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Evil Peter Parker, M/M, Morality Flip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2018-10-18 18:45:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10622886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningHETA/pseuds/DrowningHETA
Summary: Peter Parker, despite his villainous ways, can't keep his mind -and sometimes hands- off Harry Osborn. Accepting an offer for tutoring, Peter becomes closer and closer to his enemy's son. Quickly Peter's emotions and the situation spiral out of control.





	1. The Start

    Peter Parker swept through the sky- arching up, high above the New York skyline. Peter loved those small moments; the split second it took for gravity to take over his accent, like a moment frozen in time. Despite all of the trials and tribulations in his life, web-slinging made him truly grateful to the little spider that bit him. The sun was setting, coating the sky in a soft baby blue fading into pink, with wisps of cloud spotting it. It was unfortunate that his passenger didn’t share his appreciation- Harry Osborn just remained rigid and terrified in his arms, face buried in his shoulder, despite the beauty. The moment ended far too soon, and they fell down, down, down.

    A distant grumbling, not unlike thunder, gathered behind Peter, and Peter couldn’t help his smile. Of course, Norman took the bait. Peter liked to imagine that Norman had long since realized that Peter’s antics were more often about irritating him and stealing moments with his son than anything truly nefarious. And even if he didn’t, Peter sincerely hoped Harry realized this.

    No such coherent thought was on Norman’s mind, however; Spider-Man had taken his son. Snatched him away from him right in front of him. Anger burnt inside Norman, watching Spider-Man freefall with his petrified son in his grasp. Spider-Man had taken his son, had touched his son, treated his son like a plaything. The knowledge burning inside of him, and Norman urged himself as fast as he could go- he would take his son back from that fucking menace, no matter what it took.

    ‘Spider-Man!’ The words ripped from Norman’s lungs, easily loud enough to be heard over the glider and space. ‘Release my son!’

    ‘Ooh.’ Peter’s response was quieter, meant only for two people. ‘You- you don’t think I’ve upset him, or anything, do you?’ Peter cooed at Harry, who did not respond. Harry dug his blunt fingers tighter into Peter’s suit.

    ‘Hey! Gobby!’ Peter spun around on his webs. ‘Let’s play hide and seek!’

    Peter generally tried to avoid high-speed chases, as they typically meant some miscellaneous do-gooder super-hero was trying to beat him for street cred, or to drag him to prison. This time it was different- this time Peter was being helpful, he was being a friend. He and Daredevil had had a fun little ‘friendship’ going on for a good few years. Every so often they would do favours for each other and had an uneasy alliance. So if the man asked him to distract a common nuisance and enemy for a while, who was Peter to say no? And truly, it was nice to have an excuse to snag Harry. It had been so long since Peter had spent any time with him, and Peter had been getting bored with his usual routine. Nowadays, most of his time had been consumed by studying; earning and ‘earning’ money to both keep studying, and keep Aunt May in the best hospitals. Adult life was busy and expensive. Peter had been struggling to find the time and energy to instigating chaos and discord he craved. Just last week, Peter had stooped to leaving messages claiming the _Green Goblin/ Dr Octopus was here_ in the wake of his bank visits, that was how off his game he was.

    However, the plus side of this was that the infrequency of his antics had caused Norman to let off the guards nannying his son.

    ‘Spider-Man! Give me back my son or face my wrath!’ Norman’s roar was carried on the wind, miraculously undistorted by the noise and distance.

    ‘Oh, he sounds mad.’ Peter muttered. ‘You don’t think he’s upset or anything, do you?’ Peter directed the query to Harry, who remained silent. Sometimes, Peter didn’t know why he tried. At the very least, Harry wasn’t struggling, making it easier for Peter to just enjoy the contact and the warmth of Harry’s body. Peter moved a bit faster, shifting to hoist Harry up. He felt Harry flinch, or perhaps shiver with the movement. Affectionately, Peter patted his hair- he wasn’t going to drop the silly goose.

    ‘Hey, Gobby!’ Peter held Harry in the air like a trophy. ‘If you want him back, you have to catch me first!’ The Green Goblin roared at Peter again, and Peter fell into a free fall, relishing in Harry’s fingers instinctively curling into him. Peter navigated between the buildings of the city with ease; while the Goblin’s glider was built for speed and agility, it still had nothing on him. Peter led a winding pathway that Norman would struggle to follow. The sound of the glider started to fade as Norman fell behind. Peter took refuge behind a dumpster, carefully placing Harry on the ground. Peter spun webbing across Harry’s mouth. Harry stumbled away from Peter and fell to the ground, staring at Peter with unabashed terror. A shadow of guilt passed over Peter as he watched Harry scrabble at the dirty ground, struggle futilely with the webs. Peter jumped lightly to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. Harry flinched. Had he always been so scared of him? Peter shook off the thought and let the knot in his gut subside. Harry was overreacting, he told himself firmly.

    Peter smiled brightly at Harry, his own impassive lenses meeting Harrys eyes, which remained a gentle hazel, despite Harry’s stricken expression. ‘C’mon buddy! We’re not done yet!’ This time, Harry started pushing away from Peter, fingers clawing ineffectively into his suit and blows ultimately useless. The moment Peter stuck his head above the skyline Norman bore down on them. Peter tossed Harry into a fireman’s carry, disregarding his squawk of protest.

    ‘Gobby!’ Peter waved a free arm. ‘Let’s play catch!’ Peter could not hear Norman’s enraged ranting this time. Peter dived forward, now wanting to end his game. Peter led them both on a winding journey towards Brooklyn Bridge, darting back away from it every so often, not wanting Norman to realize where they were going. Although, Peter mused, dodging a blast, Norman was likely to furious to engage in any such rational thought.

    ‘Careful Gobby-kins! I have a passenger!’

    Harry clung to Peter, muscles rigid with terror. Despite the inherent danger the super-villain posed, Harry could believe that he wouldn’t drop him. He and Spider-Man had been doing this heart-stopping dance for years, and he hadn’t hurt Harry once. Not on purpose at least. Spider-Man had once started falling mid-swing- on the way down Spider-Man had gone out of his way to protect him, but it still had cracked a couple of his ribs. That fragile trust wasn’t enough to stop Harry’s head from spinning or his stomach lurching. Harry screwed his eyes shut, forehead pressed against the red suit. Harry felt himself be set down again, and cautiously opened his eyes.

    Harry instantly regretted it. East River sparkled from dizzily far below him. Perhaps in another, calmer setting Harry would have enjoyed it. They were high enough that the sound of traffic was a distant mumble, and an autumn breeze blew around them sweetly, the river a brilliant cobalt blue. Harry’s heart thudded in his chest, which had started to ache from the stress. Harry could hear the rumbling engine of his father’s glider. Harry screwed his eyes shut, imagining what it would be like to have a picnic here. Harry remembered loving the picnics he had experienced as a small child, before his mother had died. Harry breathed as steadily as he could, trying to imagine he was there now. Spider-Man spoke beside him, ripping Harry form his thoughts.

    ‘Olé Olé.’ Peter said, and grinned wickedly under his mask, watching Green Goblin speed toward him, and loosened his grip on Harry. Harry wriggled his leg around and kneed Peter in the crotch as hard as he could.

    Peter reflexively shoved Harry away with a screech, and Harry stumbled off the edge. Norman shoved Peter to the floor and turned into a dive to catch his son. Peter swore, arms around himself, and swore again. Peter grimly crawled to the side, scanning the still water for movement. Norman rose from the water and punched Peter into the water.

    Harry watched the rippling water where Peter had disappeared with wide eyes. ‘Is… will he be okay?’ Harry squeaked out.

    ‘Unfortunately, yes.’ Norman growled.


	2. The Offer

Peter Parker was experiencing a typical Wednesday. Unfortunately for Peter, ‘typical’ meant that Peter was a frazzled, caffeinated mess. Peter was hunkered out at the ESU library, desperately trying to figuring out his assignments. In front of Peter his Business class print outs and books were haphazardly splayed out. Peter was so engrossed by his mission to study, he didn’t even notice his classmate approach him. Peter felt fingers press against his shoulders. Peter jerked. Peter’s fingers gripped the desk in effort to prevent himself from literally winding up on the ceiling. Peter sent an accusatory glare to the offender.  
“Excuse me?” Harry tried again, shifting slightly. He offered Peter a smile.  
Oh shit. Peter thought. He’s suspicious. Harry figured out everything. He knows I’ve been keeping an eye on him. How could he know? I’m careful. I’m screwed. I’m so, so screwed. Peter always knew that Harry Osborn attended the same university as him, and even shared some of his classes. Peter liked to keep an eye on Harry. Peter wanted to be have some insight into the Green Goblin’s son- it was also nice to make sure Peter’s shenanigans didn’t traumatise Harry too much. People didn’t tend to talk to Peter at University. So, Peter had subconsciously ignored Harry’s words, believing them to be meant for someone else. Peter couldn’t fault any of his peers for not talking to him; Peter simply never put himself in a position to be spoken to. 

Harry offered the most charming smile he could muster. “We haven’t been properly introduced, I’m Harry Osborn.” Harry retried his introduction.  
“Peter.” Peter replied simply, opting not to share his last name. “Uh… Did you need something?” Peter asked.  
Harry didn’t let himself falter. “I was wondering if you were open to some tutoring? The lab teacher gave me a list of names of who was doing well in Business, and I was hoping you would be available.” Mentally, Harry crossed his fingers. Peter preened slightly under the compliment. Peter did take his study very seriously.  
Peter’s face scrunched up, wheels in his head turning. He could do with the extra money; but working with Harry could easily turn into a tricky situation.   
“Is it paid?” Peter returned, mulling over his options.  
“Yes! Of course.” Harry replied.  
Peter warmed up to the idea of money. It would feel good to honestly earn money more often. “I can do that. How much were you thinking of paying me?” Peter responded. So far Peter’s photographer’s pay-check, and other ‘contributions’ had been enough to get by, but it was always good to have extra money.  
“$25 dollars an hour sound okay?” Harry offered. Harry knew that was a high rate for a tutor, but damn, Harry needed a good tutor. And surely, Harry reasoned, it was better to make sure Peter would be happy about tutoring him.  
“Absolutely.” Peter responded in a heartbeat. “When do we start? We can start now if you want.”  
This time, Harry smiled genuinely, “Not right now. How about next week, is Monday okay?”  
“Uhh.” Peter gave his head a rub, further messing up his hair,” I’ve got classes pretty much all day Monday, could we do a Tuesday afternoon instead? Some point after 1pm.” This was either going to be one of his best decisions, or worst decisions, Peter concluded. On one hand, this way Peter was getting money and could keep a closer eye on the Osborns’. Peter would have to be very careful. Norman could be incredibly perspective when he saw reason to be- Peter would just have to make sure to not be suspicious in any shape or form. Playing with fire indeed.

#

Peter was still mulling over the encounter as he pulled on his mask that evening. A rate of 25$ was excellent, possibly better in terms of effort than what Peter was currently earning with his photography. Maybe Peter would be able to update some of his photography equipment with the tutoring money. Peter had had his eyes on a fancy new lens that would help take pictures across New York for a while. And then, with that lens... Peter was already getting excited over the possibilities. He could take pictures of super fights without risking his equipment. He could get photos of the more aggressive vigilantes from a safe distance. Peter grinned under his mask, suddenly very glad to have met Harry Osborn. Peter pushed off the roof as hard as he could, sending himself flying into the sky. Peter took a moment to admire the setting sun, and the hues of orange and blue it created. That too, Peter decided, was something he would capture with the future lens. Peter shot out another web, and the world hurtled by faster and faster. Peter lost himself in the thrill of web slinging.

#

As Peter wondered whether he should pretend to be surprised at how extravagant Harry’s neighbourhood was. As far as Harry was aware, this was Peter’s first time being here. Peter needed to be very careful about not doing or saying anything suspicious. That would be hard, Peter admitted to himself. Peter was a very impulsive person, acting on every whim as Spider-man. And now he was suffering for that as plain, boring Peter Parker. Peter couldn’t help but feel out of place in his jeans and turtle neck shirt. The area could only be described as high-class suburbia; houses with long, winding driveways, genuine white picket fences, some houses even had all gravel fronts. Peter never felt that way when he was in his costume, as Spider-man, everyone else needed to fit in. Peter found himself hesitating outside the Osborn home. Peter hadn’t expected it to feel so different, being at the Osborn manor without his suit on, with zero intention of instigating chaos.  
Peter rang the doorbell. Dimly, he heard it echoing through the house. The door was opened by an older man with such a striking resemblance to Harry. A man Peter instantly recognised to be the Green Goblin. Peter bit down instinctive aggression towards the man. The man looked Peter up and down.  
“Hi! I’m Peter, an-“ The door slammed shut in Peter’s face.   
“We don’t want to buy anything.” Harry’s father’s voice floated through the door.  
Anger flushed through Peter. Peter chewed on his lip, before ringing again. Looks like he had even more reason to dislike Norman, Peter thought darkly. This time it was Harry who opened the door. Peter breathed out in relief.   
“Come in.” Harry welcomed Peter inside. “Dad.” Harry tugged Peter by his hand through to the lounge, “This is Peter, my friend from Uni.” Norman frowned at Peter, and Peter frowned at the ‘friend’. Peter gave Norman a small wave as Harry tugged Peter away again. Harry gave Peter a reassuring smile. Peter seemed cold and aloof at school, rebuffing Harry’s occasional attempts of friendship. Seeing Peter out of his depth like this struck Harry as bizarre.  
Harry’s room was clean, coloured light blue and beige. Peter bit down a comment about it being bigger than his entire house. It was a huge bedroom, complete with its own flat screen, and enough bookshelves to be considered a mini library. Peter placed his bag down by the coffee table. It smelt better than his place too.   
“Okay… What parts did you need help with?” Peter asked, fishing in his bag for his book supplies. Peter really, really hoped this was a good idea. If Peter fucked up, and the Osborns’ learnt about his secret identity, it was all over for Peter.  
Peter smiled brightly at Harry, ready to own the ‘helpful classmate’ façade. Harry smiled shyly. 

#

Peter felt good. And not just in a I-successfully-hid-a-body way. Human interaction felt good, Peter marvelled, somewhat self-mockingly. Peter didn’t spend quality time with anyone, except his Aunt every other week. Now Peter was wondering if he had been people starved all his life. The tutoring was a success, and Harry had asked Peter to come back the next week- ‘and every week after that’. Peter was lucky that the things Harry had been struggling with, were things Peter already knew; he was going to have to keep on reading the course material ahead of time to keep up with his tutoring. But Peter wouldn’t let that destroy his good mood. Peter was $125 richer. That was what he would focus on right then.   
Shouting and subtle vibrating at the back of his head called out to Peter. Peter swooped lower, between buildings in investigation. Peter smirked under his mask. Peter loved a good opportunity, and was in no way above reaping someone else’s hard work.   
“Well hello there.” Peter purred, trying his best to sound casual. The leader- or at least that was who Peter guessed the man was, by the way he was holding his gun at a man’s -possibly the manager- ashen face. Relief filled the worker’s face, only to be drained of hope seeing who it was.   
The leader swallowed. “Hello.” He returned, voice terse. His grip on the gun tightened.   
“Wow, you guys have been working really hard, haven’t you?” Peter preened. The atmosphere stilled. Both the hostages and robbers focused on Peter. The hostages vainly hoped he would change his mind, and rescue them. The robbers knew they wouldn’t be able to stop him, no matter what Peter decided. Peter walked past the terrified hostages. “You fine gents wouldn’t mind if a certain spider were to take a pretty penny or two, would you?” Peter grinned. He might not have much raw power, or influence in the grand scheme of things; but here, around regular humans, Peter realised what the likes of Thor and the Sentry must feel.  
“Of course not, Spider-man.” The leader spoke again, his minions remained frozen, unsure of what to do.  
“It’s Mr Spider-man, actually.” Peter said, for no reason other than making the man squirm.  
“Of course you can Mr Spider-man.” The man croaked out. It was clear that there was nothing he would rather do than put a bullet in Peter’s head in that moment.   
Peter webbed himself a web satchel. “Thank you so much!” Peter gushed in false graciousness. “It can be so hard for spider men these days,” Peter stuffed rolls of money into the bag, “trying to support the spider wife and your thousands of spiderlings.”   
“Oh God- oh God, please. Please help us.” The cash register man begged. Alright, Peter could admit to himself when his heartstrings were being tugged.  
“Hey.” Peter cupped his cold, clammy face, not letting the man flinch away. “You just keep on making with your sob routine, and let the nasty men take the money. They won’t shoot you, and you can reunite with you loving wife and daughter. Or husband! Whatever floats your boat! Isn’t that right?” Peter aimed the question at the bank thieves.   
Peter received a chorus of half-hearted affirmation. Ah, power. Peter let the sensation wash over him.   
“Toodles!” Peter called as walked back out. As he left, every crook in the building let out a sigh of relief.   
Today was a good day, Peter thought to himself, and the night was still young. Peter would return his money to his loft, he decided, then back out. And if Peter could not find the trouble he craved, he would create it.  
Peter’s loft was small, and certainly on the humble side. Still far better than Peter would have from a freelancing photographers’ measly funds. The walls had no cracks, something Peter hadn’t expected to be a luxury when he first entered the house market. Peter placed the bag on the couch. Once the webbing dissolved he would sort through it, and figure out how he would divvy it up between student loans and Aunt May. With the left-overs Peter would take his Aunt out for dinner, somewhere swanky. She would be getting out of the hospital in a few weeks, God knew the woman deserved it.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is not abandoned! I'm going to see this through! Just don't expect an update schedule...  
> Hearts out to those still reading <3

Despite it being early -only 6:30am on Thursday morning- the ESU campus still had a sizable crowd. Students milling about, chatting on seats and looking at books while others around them walked briskly to class. Harry was one of the happier students to be there. Ahead of him, Harry could see a familiar mop of brown, moving slower than the others around him. Harry slipped through the crowd to fall in step with Peter, his coffee grasped tightly in hand. Peter felt Harry's presence beside him before he saw him, and merely grunted in greeting.  
‘Hey.' Peter amended.  
'Morning!' Harry chirped right back. Peter glanced over, his gaze lingering on the styrofoam cup, and Harry’s stress and exhaustion free face. No one should look that bright and happy so early, Peter decided. Harry met his gaze steadily. 'God you look rough.' Harry remarked casually, as though remarking on the weather rather than the state of his friend. Peter's frown worsened, unable to help sulking, bottom lip jutting out.  
It would be cuter, Harry thought absentmindedly, taking a sip of his coffee, if it wasn't for Peter's murderous expression.  
Personally, Peter had thought that his appearence was alright, especially considering his last couple days, and how he felt as a result. Peter could feel his aching aching protesting as he moved. A forest green button-up hid the ugly purple bruises hugging his torso.  
'Just.. a late night 'yknow? Homework and shit.' Peter lied with a grimace. Harry nodded and made a noncomital noise. And, was it Peter's imagination or did Harry move away from him slightly.  
Harry downed the rest of his drink, 'What class do you have? I've got philosophy later, I'm doing a speach on Metamorphosis. That book is crazy, by the way, gave me freaky dreams.'  
'It's either... chem or... science prac.' As he talked Peter realized he didn't even know which class he had, which brought back a familiar, low, humming headache, and a sinking sense of dread. 'They're both 90% attendence otherwise I would be asleep right now.' It was all Green Goblin's fault. University was supposed to be his biggest priority, and now his morning class was fucked over thanks the Green Goblin. Harry glanced over; and decided to get rid of Peter's grumpiness himself. If Peter wasn't so miserable and tired, he might of noticed the gleam in Harry's eyes.  
'How much time before your class?' Harry asked.  
'Like 20 mins, I still need to do the reading for it so...' Peter gestured to his backpack. The reading was four chapters, and the thought honestly made Peter want to cry. Peter felt a hand rest on his back and herd him to the off his designated path.  
'Let me treat you to a coffee, then,' Harry led Peter towards the cafe, hand at his back. 'My treat, as a thanks for the tutoring.' Harry cut in, Peter started to argue, then decided not to point out that Harry was already paying him for the tutoring.  
Peter went to order a large black, then remembered that Harry was paying and changed the order to a fancy sounding frappuccino, with four extra shots.  
With Peter sitting in front of him, waiting for their drinks, Harry took a moment to remind himself that it was decidedly not a date. Peter's eyes stared unfocused to the left of him, truly out of it. Harry couldn't help feeling disappointed, he had wanted some kind of conversation, at least. Like this, though, Harry had a chance to really look at Peter. Harry didn't understand why brown was considered an unpretty eye colour, he personally quite liked Peter's eyes, they were soft. A voice called out, and Harry retrieved their drinks.  
'What's your major, by the way?' Peter's eyes fastened back on him with Harry's words. 'You mentioned chemistry and science before...' Harry quickly stumbled out.  
Peter's lips pursed, and bit on the inside of his lips. 'My major is BioTech.' Peter admitted. 'I got in an a scholarship.' Peter added, quite proud of that part.  
'Wouldn't expect to see a science geek with us buisness majors.' Harry shot back with a smile.  
'It's got a good GPA rating.' Peter stated simply, as though that explained everything. 'Kinda starting to regret it though.'  
'The individual concepts in buisness aren't particularly hard... but there's so many of them, and so much to them.' Peter tried to explain, even thinking about that brought his headache back. Peter desperately resisted the temptation to lay his forehead against the cool wooden table. Instead, Peter took a sip of his frapaccino. It was too sweet. Harry dragged his eyes away from Peter's face, to examine chewed back nails drummed carelessly on the table. Peter was kind of cute. Harry alternated between his coffee and phone, trying not to be obvious in his staring. Peter fished out his books, lips set into a grim, determined line.  
Later that night Peter was hanging above New York. The wind carried a chill, promising the turn of winter, below him, lights blinked and shined. Here, Peter was far from all of the things that made the city nasty, made it a hard place to survive in, away from the violence, chaos of nighttime, the danger of the streets, and could just appreciate- appreciate a scene that ought to belong to fairy tale, not Peter's life. Peter’s eyes fluttered closed and he breathed it in. Peter couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. He’d kept himself distant from Harry from so long, not wanting to get to know him on a personal level, not wanting to deal with the fucked up relationship he’d created. Now Peter had let that gap close -let Harry be the one to close the space between them! Peter felt strange. He had devoted so much energy to keeping his lives separate, to keeping Harry at arms length, it almost hurt for it to end.  
  
  
Peter breathed deeply, in and out, until his worries faded away, and the only thing occupying his mind was the sound of traffic and his own heartbeat. It wasn't quite a traditional coping method: meditating hundreds of feet over busy traffic, but Peter had never bothered with tradition. Peter had found it was always good to take a few minutes to relax before a difficult job. As a typical over-zealous rich white man, Norman owned multiple buildings, there was the one he lived in in the suburbs where he and Harry lived, and a skyscraper in the CBD, Peter suspected there was more due to Norman's extravagant nature, but was yet to find any. Norman rarely went too long without creating something to add to his Green Goblin arsenal, Peter would usually havee a couple of months, and then Green Goblin would be hurtling a new and improved bomb, drug or trap at him. This time, Peter was going to get the drop on him ins, figure out what Norman was brewing and destroy his progress, perhaps take it for himself depending on what and how useful it was, or just trash the place. Peter smiled. The blueprints, plans, and information he'd gathered and poured over for weeks at the back of his mind.  
When Peter was younger, he could slip through the vents, but now... Peter looked at the narrow entrance mournfully, even if he could manage to get his shoulders through it, he would still be likely to get trapped the moment their was a turn. Frustration bubbled in Peter, Peter jumped up, avoiding cameras leading up the side of the building, he could count on the darkness to keep him hidden from prying eyes. None of the windows had latched, Peter sorely wanted to just smash his way through one of them, he was getting tired of skulking up the wall testing windows, but he had to stay incognito. Peter ended up losing his patience somewhere around the fourteenth floor, he chose a smaller window, hoping it was to a closet or bathroom. Peter continued until he found himself in a small hallway. The ceiling reached high above him, patterns reaching up the walls, and swirling over the white ceiling, light came from the corners of the ceiling bathing Peter in light and banishing all shadows. Peter paused, quiet and alert. The guard came around the corner just as Peter was about to go. The heavy, dark mask didn't obscure the person's surprise, they stood shock still for a heart beat, frozen and staring at Peter. Peter slammed a hand over their mouth, stifling a whimper that leaked from them. No, no, no, Peter wasn't going to let this be a waste, he had a plan, damnit, a plan that depended on him staying under the radar.  
Peter made the decision to kill them and crushed the guard's neck. The crunch of bone was loud, Peter felt the vibrations of it in his palm. Peter dropped the body with a sense of distaste, a cringe running up his spine, he did try to avoid killing for the most part. Peter paused in consideration, before webbing the man up, and placing him in the storeroom he had come through.  
Peter would die before he would let Norman know this, but he had genuine respect for the man's ingenuity, Norman's past inventions were simply ingenious, and the man would be a billionaire if he sold his technology. Too bad Norman didn't have the security to back it up. Perhaps he thought nobody would have the guts to steal from him, heroes were stupid like that, Peter thought with a snort. Now Peter knew what to expect the occasional guards patrolling the floor were easy enough to avoid. If Norman wanted proper protection, he should start employing metas not baseline guns. Peter searched by way of the ceiling, it creaked and groaned while he moved, forcing Peter to freeze and wait for minutes at a time. Peter would take the time he needed, he couldn't afford to be caught. There was something off with the layout of the floor. Peter ran his fingers over a hallway he had passed. There. Peter grinned to himself- he was so close he could feel it. The seal was concealed by the ornate, swirling patterns of the wall paper, it opened with a great groan and Peter swore violently, hurrying inside before the guards could investigate. Now Peter could only pray that Norman hadn't told his guards about the room. Peter's heart sank as he surveyed the room. The room was drastically different from the rest of the of the floor, low ceiling, hospital-esque with stretching metal benches aligned with equipment, rich with the possibility of making one spider very happy. On closer inspection it appeared to be storage, rather than technology development. Peter knocked over a large instrument with disgust. 'Redactor' the label read. Peter had been after something useful- like weapons, preferably explodable ones, or gems, or something that could make gems. Not tools that he didn't even know how to use. Peter stalked to a filling cabinet, yanking the locked draw out. Still nothing useful, there were some notes on projects, but it didn't have enough information for Peter to know what for.  
Spider sense flared, and Peter picked up and sheltered behind the cabinet. The doorway and part of the wall blew away. The echo racked through Peter's ears. He launched the cabinet at the assailant, ignoring the ringing in his brain. Green Goblin hovered poised at the door, blaster in hand.  
'Ah! Normie! I was wondering when you would show!' Peter declared. Now that subtlety was off the table, Peter was itching for a fight, a fight would definitely get rid of his frustration at the very least. Peter jumped to the ceiling, then down to dodge the taser. Peter flicked instruments at him, hoping to knock Norman off his stupid glider, satisfaction growing as they broke. The hallway wasn't much better, there was no room to have a proper fight. Peter jumped, eternally grateful for the high ceiling, avoiding hits by jumping to the floor and up.  
'Y'know, Normie.' Peter yelled between blasts, 'I never took you as the James Bond type-' Plaster splintered above him. 'That entrance almost had me fooled.' Peter darted down the corridor, weaving and changing direction in hopes of confusing Norman. It hurt Peter to admit it, but he didn't stand much of a chance inside the building, especially not on the Green Goblin's home turf. There might not be enough room to fight, but Peter was still faster. He ducked into a closet, listened to the sound of Norman and his glider. Peter jumped out of his skin, eyes glued to a mask watching him. Peter breathed out in relief, it was just the guard he had killed. Peter patted the man's cheek forlornly, turned out not to be much point in killing him. The corpse glared back accusingly. The sounds outside died down momentarily, and Peter burst out in a blur of colour, Peter launched himself at the crystal clear window. It splintered out like a spiderweb but held. 'Even your hidden rooms are boring!' Peter yelled, and threw himself again and fell blindly, instinct pricking at his mind, he threw a web, and another before catching on something. Peter paused on top of the neighboring building, keeping watch for Norman's green hide. Norman never came.  
.  
Norman picked up the redactor gingerly. The focal lens was shattered, Norman felt his headache grow, his mask hung heavy around his neck, and Norman didn't want to imagine how exhausted he looked. Norman was more than just tired, he was exhausted- exhausted of the danger of his position, how constant the work was, exhausted of the damages he and his resources took, exhausted of the danger it dragged his son, Harry, in to. The last incident with Spider-Man had been the tipping point, Norman had to find a knew method, had to make sure his child could defend himself.  
'Osborn!' A yell came and the one of the guards came back in the ruined door. 'Spider-Man has been spotted on the Abster building.'  
Norman massaged his temples. 'Leave him be.' Norman ordered, with more bite than nesecary. 'I want you and the others to search the building, find any other damages Spider-Man may have caused.' Norman set out reorganizing the scattered papers, Norman wasn't one for throwing out old plans and paper work, and while these ideas for the Iron Patriot were outdated they were still worth keeping, he just hoped Spider-Man hadn't paid enough attention to realize what they were.  
  
  
Harry couldn't seem to stop finding Peter on campus. As though now his brain was wired to pick up on Peter the moment he entered a crowd at ESU Harry would find himself absentmindedly scanning the area, looking for a familiar tuft of brown hair. And if on his walks in between classes, Harry now walked through the science and technology halls rather than the student lounge, well that was his own buisness. This time Harry found Peter tucked away from the stream of students, between two colums of the Education Facility. Peter looked happy. He was pressed against a brick wall, phone close to his face, with an ecstatic expression on his face, grinning ear to ear. Harry stopped in his path to him, and took a moment to really take him in; Peter looked so happy, leaning against the dirty library wall in a familiar blue sweater. Harry realized he had never seen Peter look like that, and... Harry thought that maybe he had never seen Peter happy, not truly, not like this. After a moments consideration, Harry changed his direction, deciding to leave Peter to his mystery caller.  
It took Harry by surprise when Peter bumped into him. Gone was the goofy expression, replaced with a small, calm smile.  
'Guess what just happened?' Words continued to tumbled out of Peter's mouth, enthusiasm uncontained. 'My Aunt was just released from the hospital!'  
Oh.  
'That's great news!' Harry returned, a smile helplessly coming over him. A sliver of relief coloured his emotions. 'Can I meet her? Y'know, give my congratulations.'  
Instantly, Peter's smile disappeared, slipped into a more thoughtful expression. Harry's gut clenched, terrified he'd ruined the fragile relationship he'd been building, terrified he'd overstepped an unspoken boundary between them.  
'Yeah,' Peter agreed, almost too quiet to hear. 'Ok, yeah.' Peter repeated, and bumped into Harry softly before hurrying away, mind reeling at what he had just agreed to.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been influenced heavily by Virgil, by sadbabyosborn [arka_r], and her relevant headcanons on her tumblr ttakooo21, which are pretty rad so check em out.


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